He deals in the finite.
Values fixed,
measured
labelled.
Addressed in machine code,
a poetry in state of being,
or not.
Though I write for him,
it is too "flappy-flappy"
for his tastes.
My love is best delivered
in more practical fashion;
meat and 'tater pie
is ever welcome
in all its shades of grey;
with a Hot Promise of
sticky toffee pudding,
later.
04
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edit 20.03.10
